Silver Lining
by oyb
Summary: Sirius seeks solace from the Wizarding World in a muggle bar. He's not the only one.
1. Chapter 1

Sirius Black shifted in his seat, his finger lazily circling the brim of his whiskey on the rocks.

A pretty blond sat opposite him, leaning into the conversation, fully aware that the new angle displayed her ample cleavage.

"So tell me again, why do people _volunteer_ to stand on that stage and make fools of themselves?" He cringed, eyeing the stage where a rather large, sweating woman was performing her best "Lady Marmalade."

The nameless blonde giggled, squeezing his knee. "Oh, you're funny! Don't tell me you've never been to a karaoke bar."

"Care-ah-what?"

Yes. It was Friday night and the infamous Sirius Black had stumbled into what he hoped to be a low-key muggle bar; somewhere he could have a drink without worrying about all the stares and whispers. This, however, was more than he bargained for. The only thing keeping him in the obnoxious club was that it happened to be Ladies Night and, boy, were there plenty of them.

The one holding his attention for the moment was a pretty, young thing. She had said her name was Amanda. Or was it Samantha? Regardless, she was twenty-three, an aspiring model, with legs that went on for days, a head of straight, platinum hair, and plenty of space for rent between her ears.

In the span of three songs she had migrated from her bar stool and into his lap, explaining that the color of his eyes would make for a great nail polish.

One of his hands were resting loosely on her waist, the other rattling the ice in his empty glass, cueing the bartender that he was in desperate of need for a refill.

"We could call it Silver Lining or even, Steel Seduction." Her mouth was inches from his, her words ghosting over his lips.

Sirius looked out at the other attractive women in the crowd, assuring himself that they were all as shallow and mindless as the lovely muggle draped around his neck. She would do.

With that, he slammed back the whiskey refill, and closed the gap between her full, red lips and his own.

She tasted like vodka. And lipstick.

* * *

Minutes later they were stumbling into an empty stall in the Men's lavatory, the blonde wrapped around his waist in a similar fashion to a boa constrictor. He wondered briefly why she was so keen on shagging a stranger, only to be brought back to the present when her hand moved between them to cup him roughly through his jeans, She earned herself a low growl from the ex-prisoner.

He quickly latched the door and forced the blonde against it, his palm venturing beneath her dress.

She squealed when his fingered made contact with her damp panties. "Oh, Nigel.."

Sirius could only chuckle into the base of her neck. "Name's not Nigel, love. But feel free to call me whatever you'd like."

The blonde huffed, pushing him away for a moment. "That wasn't me." She gestured to the next stall over.

Once Sirius stopped to listen, sure enough, he was able to hear a couple one stall over that seemed to have had a similar idea. "Great minds.."

The small blow to his ego immediately healed itself and he resumed kissing down the column of her neck, his palm cupping the blonde's sex. Until two words stilled him once more.

"Hermione, babe."

The voice was hushed and uneven, answered by a moan.

The realization of exactly who was being held on the other side of the wall sobered Sirius instantly and his heart lurched. "I'm.. I'm sorry. I can't do this." He pulled the pretty girl away from the door, planting an apologetic kiss on her forehead, and bolted from the lavatory.

What in Merlin's name was Hermione doing at a muggle bar, and more importantly _who_?

A young witch like her had no business wandering around muggle London at night unaccompanied. Sure Voldemort was no more, but there were still plenty of witches and wizards who wouldn't exactly be put out if she were to be viciously murdered.

He carefully avoided the blonde as she exited the bathroom and headed straight for the exit, a livid expression marring her flawless features.

The echo of her breathy moan coaxed Sirius back to the bar.

* * *

Soon, a crowd of empty glasses was keeping Sirius company as he waited for the bookish brunette to exit the lavatory.

He had been harboring a shameful crush on the young girl ever since she had brought him back from the veil nearly two years ago. She was no longer the awkward teenager he was previously familiar with, but had grown into a stunning young woman complete with modest curves and a razor-sharp wit.

She had broken things off with Ron a few months ago, but hadn't brought anyone home to Grimmauld with her since.

Sirius was pulled from his thoughts when an unmistakable head of wild curls came storming out of the loo, straight out the entrance doors and into the rain, _Nigel_ quick on her heels.

Sliding what he hoped to be the proper amount of muggle money for his drinks, the inebriated wizard excused himself from the bar.

He could just barely make out her silhouette through the misty glass doors. She was thrusting her finger towards Nigel accusingly, .

Hermione must have said something that struck a chord, because in the next moment, Nigel was gripping her wrist and forcing her arm down, their words muffled by the panes of glass.

Sirius was now unconsciously pushing the sleeves of his button down past his elbows, his jaw tensed.

It happened in an instant. Nigel's hand was raised. There was a deafening blow. Hermione recoiled, one hand holding her cheek.

Before Nigel had time to raise his hand to Hermione again, Sirius had pulled open the door and hurled his fist into the offending man's nose, resulting in a sickening crack.

Blood poured from his face, and a moment later, from a cut across his cheekbone.

Only the sound of Hermione's shrieks and her feeble attempts to restrain him ended the merciless assault.

She reached up to wipe away the hair matted to his face by the rain, curious to see the features of the man who had come to her rescue, her eyes going wide.

"Sirius?" She whispered into the rain, greeted by his humble smile.

He pulled her tiny, sopping wet form into his arms, careful to keep his bleeding knuckles from ruining her pretty cocktail dress, and apparated them home.

Nigel remained kneeling in the storm, spitting teeth into the gutter.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry this is so short. Just wanted to post something for you guys. c: I'm working on Ch. 3.**

* * *

Lightening split the sky and rain fell in sheets on the two figures that had just appeared at the doorstep of Grimmauld Place.

Hermione was still clinging desperately to Sirius, her trembling fingers biting into his shoulder blades.

She had tucked her head securely into his chest, the dampness of his button down soothing her burning cheek. His heart was beating wildly against her temple.

Sirius was stroking the shaken girl's hair affectionately, humming quietly, his chin resting atop her head.

Neither looked affected by the weather, both content to stand in the storm together. Silent and still.

He did his best to sweep her sopping mass of hair over one shoulder and out of her face. The simple task of consoling her helped to sort his jumbled thoughts. His mind was reeling from the recent event and more importantly, the amount of alcohol in his system.

He couldn't answer himself one simple question: what now?

Then, the young girl stirred for the first time.

Swallowing thickly and wiping the back of her hand under her nose, Hermione lifted her chin to meet Sirius's gaze.

How was it that the star of her late-night fantasies, the man she envisioned dancing with her at ministry parties and fucking her senseless at the end of the night was the same man who ended up saving her from a beating in the alley?

How did he know where she was? That she was in trouble? Why would he have risked more time in Azkaban just to punish Nigel for striking her?

She would have to come back to these questions in the morning.

A wobbly hand reached up slowly to push back a curtain of dripping black hair.

Sirius flinched, instinctively tightening his hold around Hermione's waist as her palm cupped his cheek.

He could hear her uneven, shallow breathing, caused by the silent sobs that couldn't be willed away.

The tears racing down her cheeks were concealed by the relentlessly rain.

"Thank you." Hermione's voice was tiny, virtually drowned out by the storm.

Her hands wandered up Sirius's chest to fasten onto his shoulders, allowing her to pull herself to eye level. The young witch stared at his lips, watching his mouth curve into a gentle smile. And then, her eyes flickering up to his as if asking for permission, she brushed her lips tentatively against his own.

The miniscule action Hermione just committed had every nerve in the ex-convict's body singing. He felt really _alive_ for the first time since stepping foot inside that dreadful prison. Sure, he'd shagged plenty of women since being freed, but never had their touch provoked such a feeling.

Assuring himself that this was indeed happening, Sirius allowed his fingers to wind into her hair, responding to the kiss with fervor.

Her lips were designed for him. He was sure of it. The way the two petal soft pillows molded against his mouth could not be coincidence.

The incumbent storm became white noise to them. Sirius and Hermione were so wrapped up in one another than the late Voldemort could come strolling by clad in a rainbow jumpsuit and neither would ever know.

But they couldn't stay out in the rain forever. She would get sick and he had a more than welcoming bed just inside.

Hermione was dragging her teeth over his lower lip when Sirius pulled back to suggest that they retreat indoors and continue. But before he was able to speak, she was pulling back too, gathering herself and turning towards the door.

"'Mione, wait." The older wizard reached for her, but she maneuvered out of his grasp, her small hand resting on the door handle. Her face was now controlled, unreadable.

"I'm sorry, Sirius. I lost myself for a moment. Come inside. Let me to make you a cup of tea. It's freezing out here, isn't it?" Her voice was calm and measured; indifferent.

And wiping the sides of her mouth with her thumb, Hermione pulled open the door and disappeared into the dark house.

* * *

**I've got Spring Break next week and will hopefully get some writing done. xoxo**


	3. Chapter 3

Sirius remained on the doorstep, peering after her into the empty house.

"What happened?" He whispered to the doormat, his eyebrows knitted together in bewilderment.

One moment she was snogging the living daylights out of him, and the next she was scampering off to the kitchen to fix some tea.

What changed?

But it was obvious, wasn't it? She was shaken, and liquored, up.

Kissing him was just a drunken mistake, that's all. When she came to and realized she was kissing a man virtually old enough to be her father, she ran for it.

She was disgusted.

A shaky hand reached into his jacket pocket to retrieve one hand-rolled cigarette.

He sheltered it from the storm with both palms, placing it between lips that tingled still from their stolen moment.

Lighting the end of the cigarette with his wand, Sirius inhaled, his eyes never leaving the open doorway.

He imagined her bustling around the kitchen as Molly often would, fixing them both a snack whilst checking on the tea.

She would have a speech prepared for him. One about how she'd had one too many drinks that night, and that it was just a silly moment. She would ask him to forgive her for being foolish and hope that they could just forget about it, deliberately leaving out an explanation about why she'd been at that pub with that man.

Then she'd tell him goodnight, plant a sweet kiss on his cheek, and toddle off to bed.

Sirius combed his free hand through his soggy mane, clenching his jaw.

No. He wouldn't let her it all away. He couldn't sit through it. His hands already ached to wind themselves into her curls.

-POP-

The infamous wizard had apparated to The Leaky Cauldron for a pint, leaving behind Hermione and her apologies.

* * *

Sirius returned via floo from the Leaky hours later, just as depressed and twice as sloshed.

Haphazardly brushing soot from his pants and onto the carpet, Sirius wandered, at last, into the dark kitchen.

There was no sign of the young brunette.

Sirius walked through the kitchen, his hand ghosting over the cold tea kettle as he passed it.

And then he saw it. An empty mug sat in the middle of the dining table, and placed beneath it, was a bit of parchment.

Lamenting for a moment that the mug wasn't full of firewhiskey, he pulled at the note.

Sirius squinted at the tiny writing. Beer goggles are not reading glasses.

_Sirius,_

_ Sorry about that ridiculous incident on the porch. Just consider it a thank you for getting me out of that bind tonight. Sleep well._

_xx Hermione_

"Ridiculous incident," Sirius huffed, tearing the note and stuffing the remains into his pocket.

His spark of anger turned quickly into an inferno with the help of his flammable friend, whiskey.

Soon he was bounding up the stairs two at a time, oblivious to the amount of noise he was making at four in the morning.

Soft snores rattled through the air. Everyone else was fast asleep.

The hallway seemed twice as long as usual, but soon enough he came upon _her_ bedroom.

Straightening out the cuffs of his shirt, Sirius knocked twice on the mahogany door.

An instant of clarity rushed him, causing his stomach to wrench.

What in Merlin's name was he doing? What could he even say to her?

But before he gathered the sense to retreat to his room for the night, the door creaked open.

A sleepy Hermione peeked out into the hallway. "Sirius? What are you doing out here?" Her voice was hushed and groggy.

"Well," Sirius swallowed loudly, clucking his tongue and chiding himself for waking her.

"I wanted to know what you were doing at that muggle pub tonight. It's not safe for young girls to just wander the streets of London alone at night."

Hermione kept the door cracked, staring incredulously at the noticeably intoxicated wizard leaning against the banister.

"What? Can't this wait until morning, Sirius?"

Sirius frowned, looking sideways down the dark hallway. It was too late to back out.

"No. It can't." He pressed his palm against the door, opening it a fraction more.

"I deserve to know what you were doing out tonight with that _boy_." His expression darkened.

Hermione backed away to allow Sirius into her room, carefully closing the door behind him.

"Sirius, you're drunk. Go to bed." She scolded, flattening out her tank top and re-tying the drawstrings of her pajama pants.

"Don't avoid the question." Sirius stalked towards her, his eyes narrowed. "What were you doing out with a _muggle_ in a _muggle_ pub tonight? You've never mentioned this lad before, and from what I saw, he's not someone you ought to be fraternizing with." He looked into her tired, bronze eyes, trying not to notice the sliver of midriff visible below her tank top.

Hermione crossed her arms tightly over her chest, causing her shirt to rise even higher, and leaned towards the wizard reprimanding her in her own bedroom.

"I hardly think it's any of _your_ business what I'm doing on a Friday night." She was looking up at him under furrowed brows, her mouth pressed into a tight line.

The older man's jaw clenched. _Not any of your business. _

He paced the length of Hermione's bedroom.

Returning to face her, he slammed his palm against the closed door.

"You were _shagging_ a stranger, in a filthy toilet, at a muggle pub, Hermione! I heard you in there and maybe I'm mistaken, but that seems a little out of character for you." Sirius counted her sins on his fingers.

A deep red crept onto Hermione's face, half due to embarrassment and half to anger.

However, instead of lashing out at him, she took a deep, measured breath, and sat down at the foot of her bed.

"Okay. I don't know what got your knickers in a twist, but you're obviously not going to drop this." She folded both hands into her lap, staring fixedly at the wooden floorboards.

"Nigel, the man you saw me with, is a mutual friend of my cousin, a muggle. We'd both had a bit too much to drink and ended up kissing in the men's room. That's all. Kissing. He wanted more and when I refused, well, that's when he got angry and hit me. I'm sorry you got involved. I could have taken care of myself…" Hermione still refused to look at him, instead choosing to pick at the stitching of her bedspread.

Sirius just watched her fiddle with the comforter for a moment, his mind trying to process everything she'd just told him. The alcohol that continued to cloud his judgment would not make things easy for either of them.

He bounced on his toes, trying to find the right words.

"Oh yeah? Well, I guess you've learned your lesson. A frail, little girl like your shouldn't be going out to the pub alone. You just can't handle it." Even as the words left his mouth, he could have sworn they belonged to matriarch, Molly Weasley.

Hermione thrust herself off the mattress and stalked over to Sirius, pushing against his chest.

"I will have you know, I'm a grown woman! I don't need you telling me what I am and am not capable of." She had backed Sirius against the door and was eyeing him suspiciously, her hands planted firmly on her hips.

"What were _you _doing in that pub, Sirius? Hunting for an easy shag, I expect. And how was it that you knew I was in the loo?" Her pointer finger was so close to his face now that it was actually poking him in the nose.

Sirius's mind was reeling. She had turned the tables on him so quickly. He was the one demanding answers. He was the one that had every right to be angry. And now she was badgering him for answers she had no business knowing.

His silence spoke volumes.

"I knew it! You were in there screwing some bimbo!" She began wiping her mouth frantically against the back of her hand. "And I actually kissed you? Get out!"

Hermione's demand was punctuated by a firm smack across Sirius's left cheek.

Sirius staggered back into the hallway, catching himself on the railing.

"Don't come barging into my room at four in the sodding morning to accuse me of something that _you_ were guilty of!"

Everything was happening so fast. Sirius could only stare wide-eyed at the young woman seething in the doorway.

He couldn't admit the truth. That he _was _intent on sleeping with a stranger that night, but when he heard Hermione in that stall next to him his heart stopped. He couldn't explain that he was only up her asking her inane questions because he couldn't deal with how she'd left him so abruptly on the doorstep.

But even if Sirius could have explained himself, Hermione had taken one last, hopeless look at the intoxicated wizard in the hallway, and thrown shut her bedroom door, leaving him standing, for the second time tonight, alone on the doorstep.

* * *

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

"Not too bad."

Sirius swayed in front of a three-panel mirror tucked away in depths of his closet.

He was dressed in a slate grey suit embellished with fine black pinstripes and, having left the jacket open, a deep red button down was visible.

His thick black hair hung straight, framing his angular jaw, which hadn't seen a razor in nearly a week.

Eyes the color of silver stared critically into the mirror, dark circles framing his lower lids.

"Bugger. Don't have time for a shave, do I?" Sirius looked towards Remus in the mirror, rubbing his knuckles up and down the length of his jaw.

"Afraid not, my friend."

Remus joined Sirius in front of the mirror, clapping him on the shoulder.

The raven-haired man scowled, checking his pocket watch nonetheless.

Just then the closet door was thrown open.

A head of brilliant turquoise hair could be seen running through the forest of clothing lining the narrow hallway.

"Daddy!" The young boy leaped at Remus, throwing his arms around his father's neck, his hair turning a brilliant shade of green.

Remus squeezed his son, swinging him around so that he now clung to his back like a monkey.

"Is someone trying to avoid getting dressed up for the party?" Sirius laughed, patting Teddy on the head, trying to smooth down his unruly curls.

Teddy just giggled, burying his face into his father's shoulder.

"I better go get him dressed. Tonks will have my head if he's not ready by the time she floos over."

"Yeah, yeah." Sirius tucked a rogue strand of hair behind his ear before turning away from the mirror.

Teddy bounced his feet on Remus's hips, urging him to leave the room full of boring clothes.

Remus sighed, and made to leave, but was stopped by a hand on his arm.

"You don't think _she'll _be there, do you, Moony?" Sirius murmured, chewing his lip and undoing the top two buttons of his dress shirt.

It had been three weeks.

Remus looked at his old friend sympathetically, the toddler on his back pulling at his ears and squirming restlessly.

"I don't know, mate." He offered Sirius a smile. "But don't bother getting too upset about it. Half of the wizarding world will be in attendance. Even if she is there, I doubt you'll see her."

Watching Remus wrangle Teddy out of the room, Sirius exhaled deeply and, smoothing out his suit, disapparated.

* * *

It was the fourth anniversary of Voldemort's defeat and just as Remus predicted, seemingly every witch and wizard in England was in attendance.

The Ministry had coordinated the event, completely renovating an abandoned manor tucked away in the countryside just for the occasion.

Naturally, Harry was the guest of honor and had therefore been coerced by the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, into giving a speech, one that would undoubtedly be written by Hermione, at some point during the evening.

Sirius sat seated at one of the innumerable round tables, helping himself to the open bar.

"I can't believe you didn't even take the time to shave!" Tonks bounced Teddy mindlessly on her lap, leaning across the table to tap Sirius scornfully on the cheek.

"And the two bottles of firewhiskey you've nabbed for yourself. Honestly! This is a formal occasion."

Clenching his jaw, Sirius sat up and grasped the bottle of aged firewhiskey. "You're right, Nymphadora. What was I thinking?" And giving her a daring smile for referring to her as Nymphadora, Sirius poured the remaining contents of the bottle into two champagne glasses, taking one in each hand.

"Much better."

Remus nearly snorted into his glass of butterbeer, pulling himself together instantly when he caught his wife's annoyed glare.

Sirius sipped obnoxiously at each glass, carefully avoiding the death glare Tonks was now wearing, instead choosing to look out at the masses of people on the dancefloor.

"I wasn't aware your wife moonlighted as Molly Weasley, Remus."

This time Remus did snort into his glass, causing the amber liquid to come bubbling over the brim and stain the white, silk tablecloth.

One more quip from Sirius and Remus would be sleeping on the couch.

Remus shot his old friend a helpless look, speaking purposefully to him. "Oh, look at that, dear. Wouldn't mind fetching us some towels, would you Sirius?"

Sirius sighed, leaning forward to bop Teddy on the nose before pushing back his chair. "'Course not." He stood, champagne glasses in tow, and bowed dramatically to the couple.

"I suppose I ought to find the Chosen One anyway and tease him about the big speech." His eyebrows waggled mischievously. "See you two lovebirds later."

He weaved through the crowded ballroom, doing his best to avoid the many wizards looking to catch him in conversation.

Not to mention the ones that still cowered when he walked by, despite being pardoned of all crimes by the Minister of Magic himself.

Soon two hands were patting him on the back.

Sirius turned to find two tall, scrawny wizards behind him, wearing identical suits and smiles.

"Double fisting tonight, are we, Black?" Fred asked, reaching out and plucking a glass from Sirius.

In the next moment, George had snatched the other, leaving Sirius empty-handed.

Daringly, George threw back the contents of the nicked glass, the hot liquid forcing him to grimace. "Yeah, what's the occasion?" He wiped the remnants from his chin.

"Wankers!" Sirius cried, seizing the now empty glasses back from the sniggering duo. "I needed those! And it's none of your bloody business _why._" He waved his hand dismissively at their curiosities.

"I'm surprised you two aren't busy spiking drinks tonight." He spoke through clenched teeth, having placed the stem of a champagne glass between his lips in order to retrieve his wand from his coat pocket. Pointing his wand at each glass in turn, they began to fill slowly with the same whiskey he had been drinking before the Weasley interruption.

George grinned, prodding his twin in the ribs. "Nearly double-dosed Angelina Johnson, didn't we?"

Fred chuckled, catching eyes with Angelina from across the room. "Oh, we'll be double-dosing her alright."

Sirius shook his head, checking his pocketwatch before pushing the wicked pair playfully.

"Well, that's about my limit. I was just on my way to tease Harry about his speech." He was sure to keep his glasses an arm's reach from the twins and their sticky fingers.

Each twin gave a firm nod, parting and ushering him to pass by.

"You two stay out of trouble." Sirius punctuated his request with a wink and, squeezing between them, caught a glimpse of unruly brown curls bobbing through the crowd.

* * *

**Another short chapter! **

**I'm sorry! **

**School and such has been keeping me busy.**

**I promise Sirius/Hermione smut times are coming. **

**I haven't abandoned this!**


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